"Finally, brethren, whatsoever is true, whatsoever is honorable, whatsoever is right, whatsoever is pure, whatsoever is lovely, whatsoever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things."Philippians 4:8

Way, way back in the late, late 70's I had the privilege of looking through a chain length fence into the Air Force Graveyard at Davis-Monthan AFB. I remember to this day how sad my heart became as I looked at rows of hundreds and thousands of decommissioned aircraft, and it felt a bit sadder when I saw the B-29's. You see, along with the faster flying ones, the heavier ones, this plane held a fascination for me. The Enola Gay was, is, a B-29. A B-29 that flew us into history. A flight that changed the world. My world. Your world.

The one I had traveled to Tucsan, Arizona with loved airplanes. All airplanes. I learned a lot that trip. About planes, about him. There was a softness in his voice when he told me bits and pieces about the ones we were peering at through the fencing, taking photos of. How they were used in battle, for rescue attempts, for decoys. In wars, in battles, on foreign fields, over vast oceans and seas. I couldn't help but think of the ones that didn't return to families, to life. Those that returned, but not to a life they knew. Or wanted. And those that returned forever changed in spirit and in heart. A life that had dreams and trigger moments to remind them of time spent within the wells of the planes I now studied. We found ourselves whispering, as if we were in a sacred place. A place that demanded our respect for those that flew them, that flew in them, that had people who loved them, missed them, prayed for them. We wandered outside, looking at what we could, for what seemed hours. I'm sure it was.

Because he knew my feelings for the B-29, feelings he shared himself, he found them for us. Showed me how to stand with one B-29 in sight and note how, with such precision, the others were lined up beside her. Then to move to another spot outside the fence and look down the line, and not see anything but the one in front. I was impressed. Someone cared.

There were so many planes. The thought crossed my mind there were too many. Did it really take hundreds of B-29's to protect us? And what of all the others? Each separated, yet together with like ones. So many. Each held her own thoughts. Her own history. So many planes. The grasses outside the fences were a bit tall, a bit too scrubby for me. But the field inside was pristine. Someone cared.

I'll never forget that trip.

Because I happened to see a photo on the news tonight I Googled and searched for that airfield of my memories. I have no idea why it was there or the news connected with it. I simply looked over my laptop, saw the photo, and was thrown back into the heat of Arizona on a sizzling summer day. And so I came here with a reprint of that photo, not sure what I wanted to say. The photo took me to a website, which led to another site, and another. What I learned amazed me and touched me. And I'm thankful. For many reasons.

At another time, I'd love to tell you of my trip to an airshow. Another place in the sun, another trip with my lover of planes. Where I met the man who piloted the Enola Gay, my Enola Gay. A humble man, lover of family, of his country. A man with no regrets yet sad in his own way with memories of his own.

Thank you, my beautiful Lord, for giving us memories. Even when those memories bring bits and pieces of sadness. For even with the sadness, there are memories of love, of laughter, of goodness. And I shall always be thankful. Always.

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I encourage you to click on the photo, click on the highlighted words, read of this special place in the hearts of many. You'll learn something good, something new. And that is a wonderful thing. Click here, or here, or here to learn more about the Enola Gay. And her pilot.

Oh by the way, the Enola Gay holds another story. Where it all began for me. You see, I am kin to a crew member of The Indianapolis. A young man I heard talked of all my youthful years. A young man my great-aunt Hattie loved very much. And The Indianapolis ~ a cruiser that delivered a 15-foot wooden crate to a destination. A crate which held Little Boy, an atomic bomb. Having delivered the load, she departed under orders of complete radio silence. But that did not stop the Japanese. Or the sharks. But that's another story, and I'm tired. I think I shall go to bed now. Tonight I think I shall pray for, well, for all of the ones left behind. And I shall thank God for those that gave their life, and for the man that took me to see those B-29's.

My mother made us this memorable Easter bunny cake each and every year when I was growing up, and of course, I made it for Jenny. This weekend I shall take the cakes and decorations over to Jenny's and let Noah and Ian help me put the cake together! I am so excited to be sharing this tradition with my grandbabies. Here are some ideas from one of my favorite cooking blogs, Bakerella ~ click on any of the photos to go to the recipes! Have a blessed Easter weekend ~

Aren't these the prettiest pastel shades?! John came in today with some fresh eggs given to him by Mike Chastain. Mike has chickens and these are the eggs from (and forgive me if I misspell this!) Banty hens. Mike says that when boiled gently the colors will deepen and become even prettier than they are now! We plan to take these to Ian & Noah when we go to their home for lunch. Mike also sent a dozen eggs from his 'other' hens and they are deep shades of browns, creams, and beiges. I have never seen colors this varied and natural as I have with these. Just had to share them with you! Have a blessed weekend ~

"Let me get this straight - we are trying to pass a health care plan written by a committee whose chairman says he doesn't understand it, passed by a Congress that hasn't read it but exempts themselves from it, to be signed by a president that also is exempt from it and hasn't read it, and who smokes, with funding administered by a treasury chief who didn't pay his taxes, all to be overseen by a surgeon general who is obese, and financed by a country that's broke?

This bright eyed beauty has made a dream come true for herself, and given us a place to stay in delightful surroundings while enjoying sand, surf, and seafood! We have had the most beautiful weekend of girl time, good food, restful moments, and loads of laughter!

We worshipped the King with a God-filled congregation, then headed to The Tin Top Restaurant. Deborah and I had both heard of this place and it was good. I was a bit disappointed in my brunch selection but the strawberry bread pudding with white chocolate sauce totally made up for it! Oh.Wow. It was so good! I know, I know the photo is way too small. But it was the only one I could find. Sadly, if you go to their site at this time, you won't get more than this. Hmm, I think I'd make it larger and offer more of a variety for advertising purposes!

After changing into jeans and sandals, we headed to the coast for a nice, but extremely windy walk along the shoreline. The waves were high and the water looked a nasty shade of greenish brown, but the sounds of the gulls, the laughter of those on the sand, music from local eateries made it a delight to my senses. Being with two of my dearest and bestest friends was an added bonus. We'll head home tomorrow at some point, taking with us heart memories and giggles.

Today was Baby Day at the Hunter Hills congregation of the church of Christ and we were present. It was a wonderful experience and my heart overflowed. This was a public confession of faith for the parents and bore witness to their desire to raise the child up in the love and knowledge of our Lord. There was a total of seven babies. Of course, our favorite by a bit was Elle ~ any wonder?! Here's part of what her parents had to say ~Their prayer ~

"We thank you so much for Elle and the blessing that she is to our family . . . We know, Father, that she is yours and that you know the number of her days. We pray that you will be with her and keep her safe and healthy. We pray that her life will be filled with Your Spirit and that she will possess your fruits . . . We pray for Elle's future husband, Father. We pray that you prepare him to love our baby girl as she should be loved and care for her the way she deserves to be cared for. Most of all, Lord, we pray that he will love You and lead her and their family to an eternal reward with You one day . . . Father, we pray that you will help us and her brothers to be good examples for Elle, helping her to develop a love and relationship with You . . .Most of all, Father, we pray that Elle will act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with you, her God . . . "

What Elle Means to Her Family ~

"Elle is an answer to prayer . . .We prayed long for a little girl and were elated to find out that that prayer was going to be answered . . . Elle means an opportunity for us to raise a sweet girl up into a Godly woman . . . Elle means a sweet sister for her brothers . . . Elle means pink and polka dots and frills for her Mommy . . . Elle means a new opportunity for her Daddy . . . An opportunity to love as only a Dad can love a daughter . . . sweet kisses and tea parties . . . Elle means an absolute, perfect completion to our family."

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We love you, Miss Elle. Elle Belle as your mother so lovingly calls you. We are blessed to be a part of your world. You have come into a family that is at times a bit silly, and a lot loving. There will never be a time that you won't find one of us wanting to help you with a problem or to just give a hug. You are surrounded not only by His angels but with those of us here on Earth that will protect you with everything we have within our power. You are loved. You were wanted. You are special. You always will be.